


it's easy to get lost in your heart

by notthebigspoon



Series: 37 Stitches [8]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 01:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10400322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: "You're something else Kershaw.""I lose my head when I'm with you."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Setting the World on Fire by Kenny Chesney and Pink.
> 
> Written for an anon prompt on Tumblr.

“Four years. Doesn't make a damn lick of sense.”

“Not sure if that's something a person wants to hear on their anniversary dinner.”

Tim doesn't sound upset though, merely looks amused, rolling his glass of wine between his fingertips as he lounges back in his seat. Dinner is over, empty plates cleared away and fresh wine poured as they wait on their dessert. Tim looks as lazy and happy as Clayton feels after their steaks. He'd refused to pick a restaurant, waving it off and leaving it to Clayton. It's probably a good thing. Knowing Tim, he would have picked In-n-Out just to be a bastard. Which is fine, but four years deserves more than a cheeseburger and fries.

It really doesn't make any sense, the two of them, considering they got together when Tim was drunkenly mourning McCarthy's desperation to get away from him. Their personalities don't really sync, or shouldn't anyway, and they're not awash with common interests. Clayton's teammates have had years to get used to it, and Tim's had started to adjust when he'd left the Giants. He hadn't been close enough to any of the Angels to ever bring Clayton up. The Padres are yet to be determined. Clayton's not worried.

He's never been worried, not since his talk with Benny so long ago. They've never hidden each other or lied about each other but they don't talk about it unless it's relevant. Unless it's important. There's a certain sort of joy in the secret as well, knowing that they have something so sweet that belongs just to them. Tim plays the jaded one to perfection but he's got a sentimental streak that Clayton loves to see come out.

“It doesn't.” Clayton insists. “It doesn't make any sense.”

“No.” Tim admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it works. I don't think you know just how big a percentage of my sanity you are. Do you know I haven't worried once about not finding another team? I was just fucking happy to be with you and hey, if I didn't sign, it meant I was with you all the time. That's insane for me.”

Clayton rolls his eyes. “I know. I remember you freaking out before you signed with the Angels. You broke three of my favorite mugs, remember?”

“Well, you have too many coffee mugs as it is.” Tim retorts, cheeks flushing. “This is the kind of re-prioritizing I didn't think was possible for me.”

“And it only took four years.”

“Imagine how mellow I'll be when we're old and yelling at kids to get off our lawns.”

Clayton smiles. “You picture us being old together?”

“Honestly, after the first six months, I never pictured a time when we wouldn't be together.”

Well that's just not fair. Clayton leans over the table, catches Tim by his tie and pulls him forward until their lips are pressed together. Tim is laughing, pushing his hands into Clayton's hair the way Clayton loves for him to do, mumbling that they're not going to make it to dessert at this rate. Clayton grunts. He doesn't actually care, dessert be damned, because he knows Tim loves him but he didn't know that. He doesn't let go until the waiter is discreetly clearing his throat. Tim draws back and flashes a grin at the man who subtly smiles in return before placing their souffle between them, refilling their wine again and departing.

It's hard to get through dessert, though not because Clayton is particularly eager to get Tim back home. (Something he does, in fact, look forward to.) He can't stop watching Tim, his hands as he reaches out for more dessert, the curve of his jaw and throat, the sparkle of his eyes. He thinks 'he's mine' with a heart that's full nearly to bursting and he's never been so proud of anything as he is of the man sitting across from him. He wants to say something, to tell Tim he loves him, that he's beautiful, none of it seems quite right.

They bicker over the check as they always do and Clayton wins by snatching it and holding it beyond Tim's reach. Tim looks exasperated and fond and gives in, rolling his eyes and muttering about Clayton being a child. They leave the restaurant in tandem but not touching, recoiling against the flash of the photographers cameras. Tim seems marginally less grumpy about their presence than he usually is, rolling his eyes and ignoring the questions as he makes his way to their car. He's smiling to himself. 

Clayton decides that it's been four years and it'll be forty more and he's done being careful. He walks around the side of the car and gets the door for Tim. When his boyfriend looks up at him, raising an eyebrow as if to ask what he's up to, Clayton drops a kiss to that beautiful wonderful mouth and draws back, flashing a smile of his own. Tim's eyes are soft and he looks amused, shaking his head and gently elbowing Clayton before climbing into the car. Clayton circles around to the driver's side and climbs in, starts the car and navigating through the street before he's aiming towards home.

“You're something else, Kershaw.” Tim says, lips twitching.

“I lose my head when I'm with you.”

“You'll be batshit by the time you're eighty.”

“More like by the time I'm thirty.”


End file.
